Be What You Are #3
“Well,” said Padunu after a moment, “it was the strangest wedding I’ve ever done, but it ended well—at least from my point of view.”
“Mine too. They don’t always?”
“No indeed. I’ve had weddings interrupted by violence, let me see, twice?
Three times, although in one case it was resolved quite quickly by the bride stabbing the groom.
” He shrugged. “I am sure you are not wholly surprised. I have heard the things they say about us in the lowlands. They’re not entirely falsehoods. ”
“Do you remember the day I arrived in Umtúshta?” Lill asked.
“No, I wasn’t here then. I got back only after you’d been here a few days, I believe.”
“Yes, I thought you might have. You and I have something in common, don’t we?”
Padunu rocked backward on his seat, eyes wide. “Do we?”
“I’m thinking of the fact that we both came willingly into this stronghold instead of being walled in here by the king’s men.”
“Oh. Well, yes. That’s true. I suppose we’re the only ones in that situation.”
He’d wasted an opportunity here, Lill thought.
If he had let Padunu think that he needed bribing in order to keep quiet about the curse, he might have pressed for more information now.
He might have found out what the shaman was really doing in Umtúshta—there had to be more to it than Faru’s patronage, which was surely not worth much—and most importantly, how he had got in.
But now Padunu thought they were friends, and Lill would never get anything out of him. How thoughtless.
“If you’re suggesting that we’re both outsiders, though,” Padunu went on, “I should tell you that’s not really true. I grew up in this village.”
“I didn’t realize. Which was your house?”
Padunu made a sour face. “The one Tirtu has commandeered. My family fled to the Summer Pass when Umtúshta was attacked, so he reasoned that the house was his for the taking.”
“I’m sorry,” said Lill, trying not to look like he found this funny. “That must be … ”
“Galling,” Padunu supplied. “Profoundly galling. Thank you. Of course, as a shaman I am expected to be a man of peace, but one would like a little acknowledgement of one’s forbearance, from time to time.”
Lill walked back to Vanu’s house thinking that in spite of the long conversation he’d had with Padunu, he had nothing much to report.
And the fact was, Vanu had probably known that would be the case.
He knew why Faru hated him. It was a stupid reason; it reminded Lill of something, but it was something he didn’t like to think about, so he tried not to follow that thought to its conclusion.
Why had Vanu told him to go find out what Padunu and Faru were up to, if he already knew? Maybe that was a question for Lill to ask him.
Vanu did not seem to be in the house when Lill returned.
He stood in the front room wondering what to do with himself.
It was mid-morning. He looked up at the stairs that led to his chamber.
He could go up there, sit on the bed, surrounded by the pretty things that Vanu had given him in the room that was for his sole use, and read one of the Zashian books that Atari had lent him.
He could just do that. The thought was astonishing.
He didn’t do that, because it was hard to see how such a thing would serve his mission. Though it was becoming increasingly hard to see how any of what he was doing was serving his mission. He walked through the house and out into the yard to see if there was any work for him.
He ran into Mikhi almost as soon as he was in the yard. She was storming toward the door with a scowl on her face, but it lifted the moment she caught sight of Lill.
“Da!” she shouted back over her shoulder. “Can I go if I take Lill?”
Lill looked past her to where Vanu was coming off the exercise ground, practice sword slung over his shoulder, no shirt on.
That made sense; the sun was warm and would have felt good on one’s bare skin while working hard at sword drills.
He certainly hadn’t stripped down in order to torment Lill, and though he was looking at Lill now, it wasn’t because he had felt Lill’s eyes on him.
And if he had, what did it matter? It was natural to look at him. They were married.
“If Lill wants to go,” Vanu signed.
“Oh, he does, he does,” said Mikhi briskly. “Come on, Lill.”
“If he wants to go where?” said Lill, taking an obedient step backward toward the doorway.
“To make arrows with Khatu,” Mikhi supplied. “He’s promised to show me how, and Da won’t let me go on my own, even though Khatu is harmless.”
“Of course I’ll go,” said Lill without hesitation, because “harmless” wasn’t one of the words he would have used to describe Khatu.
“Thank you,” Vanu signed as Mikhi herded Lill through the door.
“I don’t care if you tell Khatu Da made you come,” Mikhi clarified as they went back out through the house. “You don’t have to pretend to be interested in learning to make arrows. You probably know how already.”
“I do,” Lill admitted. “But the method you use up here may be different. Are you … ” He tried to think how to put the question. He was so out of his element here, and not just because she was a girl. “Are you mainly interested in learning how to make arrows yourself?”
Mikhi paused with her hand on the front door and gave him a puzzled look. “As opposed to what?”
“As opposed to … wanting to spend time with Khatu?” What an insulting question, he thought, when he’d asked it. She’d be justified in slapping him.
She didn’t, though. She looked thoughtful for a moment, then understanding dawned in her expression.
“Oh. Well, I do enjoy spending time with Khatu, but only to make arrows and talk about hunting and things. I’m not interested in—in—I mean, I’m not hoping he’s going to ask me to become his wife. I would say no! But I don’t think he is, though, either.”
I don’t think that’s quite what your father is worried about, Lill didn’t say.
“I wanted to check,” he explained. “So that I know how best to help.”
“Oh, I see, yes! Just arrow-making, please.” Mikhi laughed as she pushed open the door. “How sisterly of you. Atari was right, you know. The other day, she said she thought you were going to be like another sister for us, and I didn’t see it then, but now I do.”
“Do you?” Lill didn’t know how to respond. Obviously taking offence was the obvious—the only honourable—option, but …
They strolled along the path toward the centre of the village. Mikhi pointed toward a large, plain building with empty, unshuttered windows, and said she was meeting Khatu there.
“You can be a girl, you know,” she remarked. “As far as we’re concerned. We won’t be strange about it. Enu’s a man. Susami’s … not Susami’s mother, but you know what I mean.”
“I … don’t?”
“Her other parent—the one who birthed her. Enu.”
“Oh,” said Lill, catching on. “He must be a, what do you call it? A warrior soul? We don’t have those in the lowlands.”
“You probably do, you just make them wear dresses and spin wool.” She shrugged. “But you let boys live as women—or, I mean, you let people who aren’t really boys stop pretending that they are, and we don’t do that, ordinarily. But we could, that’s what I’m saying. You could.”
“He could what?” Khatu demanded, leaning out the door of the plain building. “Hello, Lill! Haven’t seen you since the wedding.”
“He could be a girl, if he wants, I was saying. We were talking about the warrior souls and things.”
“I told him about them when he first got here,” Khatu said proudly as they followed him inside.